


Spinning

by laekanik



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:26:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5156936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laekanik/pseuds/laekanik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The inevitability of death loosens the tongue and long suppressed secrets see the light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spinning

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after the Christmas special so it was cool to see Clara actually in a situation somewhat similar to this in The Girl Who Died. Can that just be a sign that I need to be a Doctor Who episode writer? Maybe? No?
> 
> I listened to a lot of space-y music while writing this like Aningaaq and Aurora Borealis by Steven Price and Dream 8 (late and soon) by Max Richter. Just in case you're the type of person that HAS to have music when they read. Enjoy.

What a stupid way to go-- dying in space. Sure, given the turn that her life had taken, a premature death in space was inevitable, but choking on carbon dioxide while floating around aimlessly? Now that was stupid. Clara busied herself with these thoughts, trying to remain hard and angry, knowing that if she didn't she would end up bursting into tears. What a way to go. What a way to--

"Clara? Clara!"

"Still here," she exasperatedly snapped back to the Doctor.

The situation had been this: futuristic space station, real, proper, clunky white space suits. Aliens that had eaten the previous occupants of the station, a broken airlock, and then a Clara sucked into the vacuum of space to spin lazily into the vast beyond. It had been terrifying. Absolutely the most terrifying thing that she had ever experienced and she had experienced many terrifying things.

"Have you got a reading of where I am yet?" she asked, trying to sound bored and a bit annoyed instead of panic-stricken, though her voice did shake a bit.

Luckily, the Doctor and her had communicators installed in their suits and were able to still talk. It lessened the terror; this was the Doctor after all, her Doctor, and he was going to save her. ...right?

"Not quite yet, just sit tight."

"Spin tight," she shot back dryly as she whirled through the blackness.

The Doctor had jumped into his TARDIS as soon as he heard her scream his name through the communicator as she hurtled away. Hopefully the snogbox would do a thing and she would be on her way back home very soon. She would definitely need a tiny break after this ordeal.

"Are you seeing anything? Anything at all?" he hurriedly inquired.

"No, nothing. Stars. Blackness-- Doctor I'm spinning uncontrollably, I can barely see anything at all." He didn't answer this and panic began to creep into her.

"Doctor?...you're going to be able to find me, right? Track my suit or something?"

"There's no way for me to track the suit. It was designed for the station to track and it's in shambles now. Not to worry though, I'll find you."

"How?" she asked, desperation beginning to lightly color her voice.

"Don't worry, Clara. I'm coming to get you."

He didn't speak for a while after that and neither did she; her oxygen levels were lowering rapidly and talking only quickened their falling rate. An hour passed, maybe more, she couldn't tell anymore. Who knows how far she'd drifted from the station. When her oxygen levels had reached four percent she began to let panic overcome her.

"Doctor? Any luck?"

"A few more moments."

"You're lying, aren't you?"

"Clara..."

Three percent. That had been quick. Clara's eyes prickled. She bit her lip and willed her tears not to fall. Tears meant defeat, submission to the inevitable. The inevitability of her not getting out of this mess, of not surviving this adventure, of _dying_.

She had been grousing about this thought before but now it was getting closer and closer to actually happening, here and now.

"What are your oxygen levels?"

He was no longer trying to set her at ease with false hope. He was now concerned with her chances of survival. Wonderful. Well at least they were both seeing things clearly now.

"Three."

What was the point in lying just to give him a sense of time that he didn't have? She was going to leave this life having never lied to this man again. But why stop there? Why not just be completely honest? The last time she had said goodbye to him, she had thanked him for making her feel special. That was it. A very short, simple, albeit droll farewell. So much more had to be said for this; for her final farewell.

"It's not a terrible way to go."

Alright, so that was a bit of a lie. Dying in space wasn't bad but it would have been better if she had been doing something heroic. Like saving the Doctor like she was meant to do. And she was dying alone. No loved ones were beside her, no one to hold her hand and tell her that it was alright to let go. All she had was the voice of her best friend promising that he was going to save her.

"You're going to be fine," he insisted in his growl-y Scottish brogue that she had grown to love. She frowned and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Doctor? Can we just...can we just be truthful with one another? No lies. Let's see this situation for what it is and...say some last words to each other?"

"Stop it, Clara, you're going to be fine, just hold on and--"

"Two percent."

She heard a crash. Perhaps he had thrown or hit something.

"I'm going to request one thing, alright? One thing-- don't blame yourself. Don't you dare. None of this was your fault."

"I'm not giving up."

She let out a sharp laugh but it came out as a sob.

"You clever boy. You clever, clever boy. You can't save everyone. If you did...well we never would have met, would we? And we had some good times. Some great times." He didn't answer so she continued talking after a few moments of silence.

"The men...in the life I had in the dream. All the men that I refused...you're right, they didn't match up to Danny..."

She took a shallow breath and closed her eyes again, trying to work out what she was going to say in a way that wouldn't be too obvious but also wouldn't go over his head.

"Except for the one," he said, halting her before she finally uttered the words. She opened up her eyes and smiled sadly.

"Yeah. The one. The impossible one," she murmured.

"Sorry things couldn't work out with him."

"Me too. But he...he was great. He turned my whole life around. He was everything to me." She felt a twist in her gut at the truthfulness of her own words.

"...I'm sure that you're everything to him too," came his eventual soft reply.

Clara's oxygen had finally reached zero percent. She was breathing in fumes now and her head felt fuzzy. "Yeah?" she gasped. "That's...that's good...that's good."

She wanted to fall asleep but something was niggling at her head. Something that she wasn't allowed to say but needed to say. She had promised never to say it to anyone ever again. So she wouldn't. Not like that, not directly, but she needed to. He needed to know.

"I...I loved him. I always did."

No reply. Did he understand the implication? He really could be the thickest genius in the universe. She tried again.

"Do you think that...he loved me?"

Silence. Was their connection broken? Could he not hear her anymore? When she could feel her consciousness ebbing away she finally heard him speak, his voice soft as if he were muttering to the console.

"I'm sure he did. Of course he did. How could he not?"

She smiled weakly.

"Doctor. My impossible man," she whispered and exhaled softly, closing her eyes and letting the blackness envelop her. She was floating through space and it was beautiful. It was an adventure and it was all because of him. Him him him. Her Doctor.

 

 

 

"Clara?"

No answer.

"Clara, can you hear me?"

Silence.

"No. No no no no! CLARA!"

He heard nothing.

He slammed his fist against the console and turned away, grasping at his hair. She was dying or already dead. She had slipped from his side and he would never see her again.

His Clara.

"I have lost EVERYTHING!" He shouted into the void. Into the vast, cold indifference that was universe. "Everything!" He repeated. "Just this once, let me save this one. Let me save her. Do not let me lose her. Give me that."

He stood in the silence panting. "GIVE ME THAT!" he roared one last time. His voice echoed through the infinite halls of the TARDIS and then everything was still.

The universe gave no reply.

 

Beep...beep...beep

 

He turned back towards the console and there it was. There she was. A small dot on a screen getting closer and closer.

He sprinted to the controls and increased the speed of the TARDIS until they were hurtling more rapidly towards the dot. The TARDIS groaned in protest, having been going her fastest beforehand. He briefly stroked the console. _Please. For me._

He ran to the doors and threw them open. He saw her in the distance, a tiny white suit floating aimlessly but now getting larger in size as they speedily approached. He braced his feet and held out his arms and...

SLAM.

Clara's body smashed into his and he was thrown flat on his back with her over him. The TARDIS doors closed and he could feel Her slow down. _Well done, sexy._

He pushed Clara off of him so that she was lying on her back and he worked on her helmet. Finally it came off with a hiss revealing her face.

"Clara," he patted her cheek.

"Clara, come on." She remained unresponsive.

"Clara!" He shook her to no avail.

He leaned towards her and put his ear to her mouth and fingers to her neck and felt for a pulse or breath. Nothing.

"No. Nonononono." He repeated this furiously like a mantra as he laced is fingers together and began pressing on her chest. Finishing the first set of compressions, he tilted her chin up and sealed his mouth over her's, breathing deeply twice.

His breaths filled her and made her chest rise but she made no conscious response. He completed five sets of compressions to no avail. Frantically he released her and sped down the stairs to the lower quadrant of the TARDIS. After much bustling he returned with a defibrillator.

"You are NOT going to die on me, Clara Oswald!" He growled as he shucked off her suit and top and placed the device against her bare skin. A whir as it powered up and then a shock. Clara's body buckled like a dying fish on the floor.

"Don't you dare, Clara Oswald, don't you dare."

Another shock.

Another.

Another.

"Clara, my Clara, you WILL NOT DIE!" He roared and shocked her again.

A gasp. Her eyes opened with a snap and her upper body lifted slightly as she took massive breaths of air. Her body heaved on the floor as she drank every bit of oxygen that she could.

The Doctor fell back from his knees and collapsed onto his backside, panting and rubbing his forehead of sweat. _You almost lost her. You almost lost her_ , he thought shakily.

"Doc (deep breath) tor," she gasped, weakly holding out a hand to him. He scrambled to her side and without missing a beat she reached out and cupped his face in her hands, her eyes enormous and searching as they scanned his face.

"Breathe," he frantically instructed, not knowing what else to say. She nodded rapidly, her eyes still fixed on his face as if she were drinking him in, just as his eyes were devouring the very sight of her alive and well hungrily.

Her breaths began to regulate but her eyes remained on his.

 _You_ _almost lost her you almost lost her you almost lost her_.

They stayed there in silence for a while, her sitting up with his face in her hands while he crouched over her with one hand braced on his knee and the other cradling her wrist. The steady thrum of her pulse brought him some comfort, a reminder that she was here and she was alive.

 _She almost died forever and you would be alone. She almost died forever because you brought her to that station. She almost died forever and it would be all your fault_.

The terror and pain of this thought transferred to his face and Clara saw and understood as she always did. Her expression matched his as her face fell from bewilderment to sorrowful at the realization of what might of been her fate and also his own fate as a result of her passing. He would've lost another companion. He would've been alone again.

Wordlessly she leaned further towards him and rested her forehead against his. Reveling in the simple comfort of feeling his warmth against her hands and face, she closed her eyes and took steady breaths, inhaling through her nose and exhaling shakily through her mouth.

Her fingers slid through his hair and her thumbs rubbed slightly across his jaw. She needed to feel that he was there and he needed to do the same. He moved his hands from where he had rested them and raised them up to her neck and then down her smooth shoulders. He felt the softness and warmth of her skin and the gentle beat of her pulse. He felt her alive.

Clara released an unsteady breath which puffed against his mouth. "This is real?" She inquired, eyes still closed but eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"This is real," he murmured back, his eyes closed as well.

"I died." She said it in such an ambiguous way that he was unsure whether it was a question or statement. He opened his eyes.

"Yes," was all he could say.

She shuddered at this. "How did you find me?"

He hesitated. "The universe did a thing," he finally answered.

"The universe?"

"Yes. It was being kind."

They had leaned back at this point but held onto each other's hands, unwilling to fully let go.

"I think that's enough adventure for one day," he finally said, breaking the silence.

He stood up and held out his hand to haul her to her feet. She wobbled and grasped his arm. He placed a supportive hand on her elbow.

"Okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, just...wait until the room stops tilting." They stood for a few moments until she finally nodded and they took small steps towards the console. She leaned heavily against it as he bustled around, pulling levers, typing in coordinates and throwing her concerned looks.

"If you're so worried--" she began after catching him glancing for the twentieth time.

"I'm not worried."

"--then how about you just let me stay here tonight?"

He paused.

"You could keep an eye on me so that I don't die in my sleep or anything."

"You're not going to die."

"Can I stay or not?"

"You're going to be fine."

"I'm staying."

She said this with finality and stood up straight, pushing off from the console and nearly toppling over. The Doctor sprung forward and grabbed her by the waist. They stood there panting softly.

"You're staying," he decided.

"That's what I thought."

 

 

The Doctor lugged Clara to her room in the TARDIS. At least he would've described it as lugged. Clara saw it more like him keeping a supportive hand on her back and allowing her to place her hand on his shoulder as they slowly traveled to her room.

She let go of him when they reached the door and he hovered uncertainly in the entryway as she wobbled over to her dresser and pulled out some pajamas. She began to further slide out of her space suit, which had now been gathered around her waist as her upper body was just covered by a tank top. A grey one. It looked nice against her skin. He began to avert his eyes when she turned to see him still standing close by.

"I think that I can get dressed on my own," she assured him with a chuckle.

"Yep," he said awkwardly, turning to walk away. "Of course." He cast her one more look before closing the door. He took a step towards the hallway that would lead to another hallway and so on until it branched to the doorway to the console room but paused and decided to stay put outside the door.

She emerged twenty minutes later (he had counted; waiting was quite boring) and started slightly upon seeing him there.

"Did you fall asleep or something?" He groused.

"I didn't ask you to wait."

They stood in silence for a few beats. "I wanted to make sure you were okay," he finally admitted.

"I think I'm fine now, really," she said, brushing off his concern. "I'm still going to sleep here tonight but you don't need to worry anymore."

"Clara," he began, his voice carrying a weight which caused her to stop and give him her full, curious attention. "I almost lost you today," he continued. "So...I am going to worry. And I'm not going to leave you completely on your own. I'm just going to keep an eye on you for a bit."

She said nothing to this and they stood in silence, either one leaning on a wall across from each other. Her gaze softened and her mouth had the hints of a touched smile hanging tantalizingly off the edges. She finally pushed off from the wall and walked slowly towards him, maintaining eye contact until she was toe to toe with him.

She finally broke the eye contact as she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his chest, hearing his double heartbeat increase. He released a soft puff of breath at her touch, at the physical, warm proof of her aliveness. He raised his arms and wrapped them around her as well, the feeling so comforting and secure that she closed her eyes and just _felt_ it.

This moment with only the two of them in the quietness of space, in the vastness of the TARDIS, celebrating the very act of being alive and escaping the grasp of death by just holding one another.

 

 

Clara had gone off to bed long ago and he was bored. Well...bored in a sense. On a regular day he would've plead being bored but his mind was racing and his face was stone as he roamed the TARDIS halls. He felt calm and full of turmoil simultaneously so he walked to try to get his raging mind under control.

Eventually he found his way back to the console room because that's where he felt closest to Her and he really longed for companionship right now. He stroked the levers and buttons on the console, uttering a silent thank you with each touch.

"You did exceptionally today, old girl. Well done."

With a final pat, he loped over to the doors, pulled them open and then sank to the ground, letting his legs dangle in the darkness. He hadn't done this in a while; sitting in the doorway and staring down at the _everything_ below.

Whenever he did he felt like he was his previous self looking down at Brian as he stared at the Earth below while sipping his tea and eating his packed sandwich. Then that would make him think about how Brian is coping with Amy and Rory's absence. Then he would think about Amy and Rory and then everyone else and his hearts would physically ache and his eyes would sting. No tears fell however. He wouldn't allow it.

"Another one almost made the list today," he said quietly, to the universe or the TARDIS or his memory of Brian or perhaps to himself, he wasn't sure.

"What can I do to make sure that never, ever happens?" He leaned his head against the doorframe with a sigh, letting the walls in his mind fall for the sounds of the universe in all of its infinity and splendor to come pouring in.

 

 

"Hey."

He didn't know how long he had been sitting, he had zoned out a bit in a state of meditation. He blinked and sniffed, clearing his head before looking up at her.

"Hey. Sleep well?"

She sat down next to him, causing him to stiffen, not at her physical nearness, he didn't mind that much anymore, but at her closeness to the edge. She had just escaped the grip of death at the cold hands of space-- didn't she feel the risk? Gazing at the darkness below, he casually placed his hand near her, so as to grab her if she fell.

She seemed to notice this and moved closer to him and gently took his hand. "I'm being careful," she assured him.

"I'm just surprised you'd want to be so close to it again," he replied offhandedly but lightly tightened his grip on her hand. She shrugged and leaned against his shoulder.

"It's amazing," she said reverently. "Why wouldn't I want to see it? I'd rather watch it sitting like this instead of spinning through it to my death though." She chuckled dryly to herself but it sounded more like a shudder.

She turned her head slightly to look at him. "Besides, you're here. I feel safe when the Time Lord is with me." She gave a small smile and then turned back to the view in front of them.

"Are you okay?" She finally asked quietly. He opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out.

In truth, he wasn't. He was overjoyed that she was here, that she was alive, but for how long? In the past, all of his other companions had overcome tremendous things, even death, but they were always eventually taken from him no matter what. What had happened yesterday...he had really thought that that was it. He had begged for the Universe to let him keep her, but for how much longer? If a premature death or separation didn't take her from him, her human lifespan would. Regardless of his ability to save her or the Universe's moments of charity, he would never have Clara Oswald forever.

But he couldn't tell her that, so he answered "Yes." and left it at that. She didn't believe him and he knew that but she didn't push the subject.

 

 

"Do you think he knew?" She suddenly asked, eyes fixed on the buttons before her. They were preparing for their next adventure. He stopped what he was doing and walked around the console to face her. Feeling his gaze on her, she finally looked up and met it.

"Knew what?" He questioned.

"The impossible man....If I had died--"

"Clara--" The Doctor interrupted, trying to wave her comment away like the bad memory that it was.

"If I had died," she repeated with conviction, rendering him silent. "Do you think that he would've known how I felt?"

She locked eyes with him for a long moment until he finally looked down at the console and busied himself with the controls.

"Why are you asking me?" he asked, trying to sound indifferent.

"Because you know me better than anyone," she said, causing him to look up for a brief moment. "And I just want to know..." she looked down and swallowed before meeting his eyes again, "what you think."

He turned away and fiddled with the controls again. "You're not dead, Clara. And he wasn't real. He was in the dream."

"He was real. Is. In the dream and in reality. He wasn't with me very much in the dream though. Not at all really."

The Doctor stilled for a moment, gazing down at the glowing buttons and shiny handles. They all made sense to him. How to control where they went and when. How quick, how slow. When to stop, when to go. But her...he briefly looked at Clara and back down again.

He was always unsure with her. Never fully understanding what she meant or what she wanted. So he remained on a middle ground of constant mild bemusement. "And you want to know..." he began.

"If he knew how I feel," she finished.

"Feel?" He queried quietly.

"Felt," she quickly corrected out of habit.

He sensed her gaze on his face, strong and resolute and unwavering. Quite like his own in most cases but not now. Locking eyes with her felt like dancing dizzily on the edge of a precipice; unsure if you were going to be able to keep you feet firmly on the ground or go tumbling over the edge to who knows where. But maybe "who knows where" was a good place.

"Well," he began, taking a step away from her because it was getting quite hard to breathe. He turned the screen towards him and studied it before typing in coordinates. Perhaps it would be best to take her home. She had had enough for one day. "I already told you that I was sure that he felt the same way."

"But did he know how I felt?" She asked, taking a step closer to him. He felt like his hearts were trying to throttle him internally somehow.

"You had Danny. He had no business thinking about things like that."

"People think things that they shouldn't all the time," she said, a breathless vehemence in her voice. He didn't reply. She might have taken this as disinterest but he honestly didn't know what she make of her hinting words. They were enough to send his mind spinning into a mush.

"I loved them. Him and Danny," she declared suddenly. "I loved them both and didn't know it. I loved them both in different ways. Loving Danny was easy, it was simple and lovely and comfortable. It was anything anyone would want."

He swallowed. "And the other?"

"I didn't want to admit it because it was so...impossible." He slowly looked up and turned to her. "It was brilliant and heartbreaking and thrilling and beautiful. And it wasn't sudden. It was always there. I just didn't admit it fully to myself until..."

"Until?" His throat was dry and his voice sounded like a low growl. He swallowed again, Adam's apple bobbing. She was so close and he felt like his hearts had ceased beating. Like they were individual beings holding their breath to hear her next words.

"Until he was gone."

Her brown eyes met his blue ones. Warm and cold. Earth and sky. His index finger twitched and he felt the skin of her hand against it.

"I felt," she breathed, drawing the 'f' out slightly, her voice like a warm caress or murmured secret. "Like part of me had gone too. He had more of me than I had known."

"Does he still?" He murmured. Their fingers brushed again, his thumb grazing across the back of her hand. Her breath shook slightly.

"He always will." He hadn't realized that he had stooped down gradually throughout their conversation so that their foreheads nearly touched and her whispered words puffed against his face. He did realize however, (although dimly) that he was angling his head slightly, thinking, (still dimly) that if he hypothetically wanted to kiss Clara Oswald, he was going to have to turn his face just right to avoid that pointy nose of hers. Her eyelids were lowered as she regarded him but she wasn't looking into his eyes. Her stare was fixed on something on his face a bit below his eyes. They were so close, physically as well as close in committing a massive act.

Funny how putting your mouth with which you consume food with against another person's was such a monumental thing. But oh, how he wanted to.

Suddenly the dimly lit room flared with light as the TARDIS began to beep and trill. With an intake of air they split apart. He immediately spun on his heel and marched over to check the screens to see what was amiss and causing the TARDIS to behave this way. Clara leaned against the console trying to clear her head. She looked over at the Doctor who was pretending to be busy and indifferent when really his mind was reeling. What had he been thinking anyway? No matter what he wanted, he couldn't act on it. It was selfish. He could love all he wanted but couldn't do anything about it. Look but don't touch. So he glanced up and looked at Clara Oswald and she looked back and that would have to be enough.

 

Or so he thought.


End file.
